I have been very happy recently to share some poetry, from a large collection I wrote a number of years ago. I have held these works behind closed doors for a long time – not looking them over, or thinking that I would ever share them, but for reasons unknown to me, I am inspired to post them here. As the saying goes, the time is NOW. Here, I nurture the feelings of liberation and catharsis.

This particular poem is called “Story”. When I read these words as the person I am today, I was stirred within, and I found myself enveloped in a world bigger than I could digest with my thinking mind. It is said that the heart is the most powerful organ in the human body. Of course this is open to debate, but today I am inclined to agree.

Story

This is what I want to write:You think I create a storyAnd you fail to see the plotNo that is wrongYou fail to agree with the plotYou see it with different eyesThat I believe is fair to sayBut of course your eyesHave not adjusted to the screenUpon which I present my scenesThere is so much you do not seeOr know, or live, or understandThe biggest of these isThere is so much you do not believeAnd even more that you doI never reached you thereThough I wish I hadI know there is much you can teach meAnd I do not belittle you in all of thisFor you are wonderful to meThere is a story you have written for yourselfAnd this story fits you wellIt surely suits you and makes you happyBut it is not wholeSome of the facts elude youOr you willingly elude themSo the story is only half-right, half-completeDeveloped over years of collating words and actionsTake one or twoOf these and transform them intoA changed perspectiveA character developmentProgression if you willAnd find belief in somethingYou told me you did not believe inAnd then maybe with time you will find another storyWith time(This is truly my wish for you)Or maybe you willStick to your plot(It is after all a good story)And I will stick to mineAnd we can wave at each otherFrom each director’s chairYou will look at me as you waveAnd think only goodAnd I will smile for youI must go and work nowOn character developmentAs good as my creative purpose is served hereI cannot wait until the time comesWhen I do not have anymore to write for youWhen I am empty of painAnd sadnessAnd no longer feel hurtOr feel the loss I can only reachThrough these wordsWhen I read them overI will not give a role to martyrdomAnd I will keep redefining my plotUntil the well runs dryUntil I am renewedUntil my wounds have healedAnd our story ends